


over easy

by lunetta



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Demon Sex, Egg Laying, Established Relationship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oviposition, probably not in the way you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18494629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunetta/pseuds/lunetta
Summary: Nero stares at him – at the scruff peppering his jaw, the coarse hair lining his chest, still wet – and wants.Instead of verbally communicating this, Nero leans forward and face-plants into Dante's chest, muffling his moan of, "I'm dying." Dante's chest vibrates with laughter, and Nero curls into his warmth even further, reveling in the feeling."You're not," Dante assures him. "Let's get back to bed, yeah?"-Nero's first rut hits him hard, but luckily Dante is there to help.





	over easy

**Author's Note:**

> sequel to [sunny side up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17056952) but i wouldn't say it's necessary to read it before this or anything
> 
> post-dmc5 so beware of spoilers and all that 
> 
> i know dante activates sin DT form by stabbing himself but for the purpose of this porn i'm ignoring it because i think nero would be pretty freaked out if dante stabbed himself in the middle of sex ... just my opinion tho

Sex with Dante is one of Nero's favorite activities, especially when Dante is in rut.

As much as Nero loves things like the lazy, sleepy morning sex – except for Dante's gross and totally not endearing morning breath kisses – and being able to be the one in control and fucking Dante's brains out, Nero will never tire of the older man going absolutely feral and just taking what's his. It's addicting.

Another plus is that no one bothers them during the week-long fucking session. There's no jobs, and Morrison and the girls stay clear of the shop, probably due to the smell, the noise, and Dante's generally possessive behavior. Understandable, if you ask Nero, since making eye contact with Lady during Trish's own demon-sex craze week usually earns Nero a ten minute-long stare of open disdain.

Anyway, the point is that Nero and Dante are left unbothered and alone together. _That_ is Nero's favorite part.

Which is why he is maybe a little very upset when Dante returns from Hell with Vergil in tow. Vergil, who is a complete stranger and has tried to kill Dante on more than one occasion, is going to be living with them. Nero definitely doesn't sulk or pout when Dante tells him.

Nero isn't about to argue about it, though. It would be pretty shitty to tell Dante his own brother can't stay here, at Dante's own shop. Besides, where else does Vergil have to go? Lady and Trish's place? The thought would be laughable if Nero felt like laughing about or around Vergil was a doable thing.

It seems that Dante and Vergil have worked out the whole 'killing each other' thing while they were in Hell, which is good. The only problem lies with Nero. His feelings about Vergil are mixed, to say the least. Was Vergil lying about everything the entire time he was V? Does he share V's memories, or are they gone and lost forever? Nero can't bring himself to ask any of these questions purely out of fear for the answers, so he's content to suffer.

Except, of course, Dante can tell something is wrong. He brings it up one evening, hardly a week since he and Vergil returned.

"If him being here makes you uncomfortable, we can work something out," Dante says, not looking up from the pool table, focused on the terrible shot he's about to make.

Nero leans against the cue in his hand. Instead of watching Dante miss his shot, he glances upstairs where Vergil is supposedly looking through some of their mother's things Dante has. Hopefully far enough away not to hear this conversation.

"...It's not that I don't like him," Nero partially lies. Vergil _is_ a dick, and yeah, he did kind of rip his arm off, but what bothers Nero most is his... _quality time_ with Dante being interrupted or shortened. "I'm just worried about him... overhearing us... _you know_."

Dante cocks his head to the side and purses his lips. "I'm gonna need more than that, kid," he says, bemused. Nero gestures crudely with his hands, and Dante's eyebrows go up in understanding. "Oh! I don't think Vergil cares about us having sex. Do you, Verg?"

Nero blinks and slowly turns to look up at the stairs again, and yeah, there's Vergil, watching them.

"You disgust me," Vergil says.

"See? It's fine. He can go out and kick demon ass for the night if the noise bothers him." Dante beams at Nero, who is red-faced and screaming internally. Dante either doesn't notice, or does notice and takes joy out of Nero's suffering but is smart enough not to say anything. "It's your turn, by the way."

Nero silently bends down and lines up his shot, too embarrassed to respond.

He and Dante _do_ end up fucking that same night, though. Nero tries to muffle his own sounds and keep things quiet, mindful of Vergil's presence in the building, but Dante is just as loud as ever, so his efforts are pretty pointless. But in the morning, Vergil doesn't mention it or act any different, just the same amount of annoyance and glaring as usual. That means things are fine, then, right? Probably.

The thought of Dante's ruts briefly passes through Nero's mind. Vergil probably has those too, since he's also half-demon.

Or maybe not. After all, Nero himself has never experienced it firsthand, despite the demon blood in his veins.

Nero just hopes that they don't try to kill each other when that happens, but they can cross that bridge when they come to it.

 

* * *

 

 

About a month later, Nero wakes up feeling strange.

Sluggish and restless at the same time, and warm – not in the pleasant way, but in the stifling, stuffy way. Nero would think he's coming down with the flu or something, but he can't even remember the last time he got sick, as demon blood seems to keep practically every human ailment at bay. He doubts this is anything serious, anyway. It's just a weird feeling that'll pass in a few hours.

What's weirder, though, is that when Nero cracks his eyes open, he finds that he's... hugging Dante. His arms are wrapped around the older man's waist, and one of Nero's legs is slotted between Dante's, while his other leg is hiked up high enough to drape across Dante's hip.

(There's also a damp spot of drool by Dante's chest, courtesy of Nero, but that's nothing new.)

Dante is the one who octopus-clings in bed, not Nero. What the fuck is going on here? Maybe Nero really _is_ sick and dying.

Dante is still snoring, and a peek at the decrepit alarm clock that doesn't even make noise anymore tells Nero it's eight in the morning, which means Dante won't be up for at least another three hours. Nero carefully untangles himself from around his boyfriend and rolls out of bed, deciding if he has some kind of demonic flu, he probably shouldn't be so close to Dante.

The warm feeling spreading throughout his body has built up into a throbbing kind of heat at this point, so Nero drags himself to the bathroom and steps into the shower. He knows from experience the noise won't wake Dante. He turns the dial all the way to cold, which is admittedly not the best idea he's ever had, and his resounding shriek _does_ wake Dante up.

Not more than ten seconds later is Dante running into the bathroom and throwing open the shower curtain, and Nero _eep_ 's in surprise and covers himself for some reason, like Dante hasn't seen him naked one-hundred times, at the bare minimum. Dante's naked too, apparently having not bothered to put pants on in his rush to get in here. His dick is just... hanging right there, and Nero can't even find it funny because Dante looks so concerned and that makes Nero feel like shit.

"I'm fine," he says before Dante has the chance to open his mouth, "cold water just shocked me. Go back to bed."

Dante looks to the dial and quirks his lips. "And you're taking a cold shower, why?"

Nero pulls the curtain closed because water is getting on the floor, and also if he stares at Dante any longer, Nero is going to end up sucking his dick right here. Wait, why would he want to do that while he's sick? In the freezing shower, of all placing? "I'm hot," he says to Dante's silhouette.

"Yeah, you ar–"

Nero sighs, closing his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. " _No_ , I mean like a fever or something. I think I'm getting sick." At that, Dante pulls the curtain open again. He steps in behind Nero, who balks. "What the fuck, I said I'm sick! Don't come in!"

"Aaah," Dante whines pathetically, trying to move away from the spray of water, like he didn't just hop in by his own volition, "it really is cold in here."

"I _know_ , that's why I said don't come in!" Instead of strangling Dante or shoving him out of the shower, Nero adjusts the temperature to relatively normal so Dante will stop being an over-dramatic asshole. "What part of 'go back to bed' don't you understand, old man?" Nero says, trying to stay annoyed as Dante brushes his wet bangs out of his eyes.

"If you're sick, I have to baby you," Dante states plainly, like it really is that simple, as he steps further into Nero's personal space and presses a hand against his forehead. "You feel pretty cold to me, actually."

Nero knocks Dante's arm away. "Get out if you're going to be an idiot," he snaps, turning around to grab the shampoo from its spot in the corner, intending on actually showering like he planned to before Dante interrupted him... which is Nero's fault for waking him up in the first place, but still. Dante, the tall bastard, reaches around him and grabs the shampoo bottle before Nero can.

"Let me take care of you," he says at Nero's wordless glare.

"I can wash my own hair, thanks."

"Let me do it anyway."

Nero lets him, only because Dante started squirting the bottle's contents into his hand before Nero could argue more. And it might also be because Nero is starting to feel kind of tired, and if he has his back to Dante, he won't think about getting on his knees and choking on his cock.

Except then he starts thinking about Dante bending him over and fucking him into the shower wall, and that is a good thought, so Nero presses his ass back against Dante's crotch while he's in the middle of scrubbing Nero's hair.

To Dante's credit, he hardly reacts, except for a soft noise of surprise and his hands briefly stopping movement. "Don't start something you can't finish," he says, and Nero can hear the smile in his voice. "What happened to being sick?"

Nero can feel like garbage and still want Dante to fuck him. What's wrong with that?

"I dunno, I just..." he trails off, because he doesn't know just what. Dante's hands massaging his scalp are making it hard to think. Nero knows the water is only lukewarm – he can _see_ the temperature dial and hot water is a rarity here in the first place – but the air in the cubical shower feels humid and sweltering to him.

"Close your eyes so I can rinse," says Dante, his breath hot against Nero's ear. It's only then that Nero realizes at some point he went completely limp, leaning back against Dante, who's been supporting his weight without comment.

"I really..." _Need your dick in my ass right now_. "...don't feel right."

Dante hums in response and Nero doesn't feel like deciphering whatever that means, if it means anything at all, so he closes his eyes and lets Dante direct him under the water flow.

The rest of the shower is a blur to Nero. Or maybe Dante didn't go any farther than washing his hair. Nero actually has no idea. He only realizes the shower is over and Dante somehow got him out and standing upright when he feels a towel being plopped on top of his head. Dante starts ruffling his hair dry and Nero halfheartedly tries to bat his hands away.

"Cut it out," he mutters, more embarrassed than anything else.

"No can do, kiddo," Dante says, giving Nero's hair a few final scrubs before he takes the towel and starts drying his own hair. Nero stares at him – at the scruff peppering his jaw, the coarse hair lining his chest, still wet – and _wants_.

Instead of verbally communicating this, Nero leans forward and face-plants into Dante's chest, muffling his moan of, "I'm dying." Dante's chest vibrates with laughter, and Nero curls into his warmth even further, reveling in the feeling.

"You're not," Dante assures him. "Let's get back to bed, yeah?"

Nero thinks he might have had plans for today, but he doesn't feel like dealing with anything anymore, and maybe Dante will fuck him when they're in bed, so Nero lets Dante take his hand and lead him out of the bathroom. The bed covers are strewn about the floor, probably from Dante's haste to get to Nero when he screamed. Guilt overwhelms Nero again.

"Sorry I woke you up," Nero says as he sits down on the edge of the bed, gaze lowered in shame. He notices that he's not even hard, despite his thoughts in the last hour being ninety percent sex with Dante-related. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you," Dante replies. Nero watches very sadly as Dante slides a pair of briefs over his ass, effectively cutting off Nero's view. He comes to sit next to Nero, looking more amused than concerned. "I'm pretty sure you're just going through your first rut. Probably."

Nero turns the sentence over a few times in his boggled mind. "...That doesn't make any sense," he decides. "I don't... get those. Ever."

Dante nods in agreement. "Right. But you _did_ trigger for the first time back in June, awakened your inner devil and all that," he explains. "Plus, you're acting like you're dying and the only cure is my dick. Isn't that basically what I'm like during my ruts?"

...Well, when he says it like that, maybe it does make sense. And now that Nero thinks about it, a sign that Dante's ruts are near is him being lethargic and clingy – more so than usual – for about a day before the fucking and furniture-destroying starts. He's probably right.

If he _is_ right, that means Nero is in for a week of Hell. He's kind of anxious now. What will it be like? With Dante, Nero happily submits while he triggers, fucks Nero's brains out, and lays his clutch inside Nero. Is Nero going to be like that? Oh God, what if he lays eggs like Dante? It's _hot_ when Dante does it, but the thought of himself doing it is mortifying. How does it even work? Do they... do they just come out of his dick, or–

"Try to get some sleep," Dante says when Nero doesn't reply, "I need to talk to Vergil, kick him out for the week."

Oh yeah, Vergil. Speaking of, "He didn't even bother to come make sure everything was alright after I screamed."

"Did you really want him barging in on us naked?"

That's a good point. "No, it's bad enough when you do it." Nero rolls on his side so his back faces Dante. "Come spoon me when you're done."

Dante ruffles Nero's hair, laughing fondly. "I'm getting mixed signals here, kid," he says, and Nero just hums in response.

He's asleep before he feels Dante's hand leave his hair.

 

* * *

 

 

Nero feels twenty times worse the next time he wakes up.

Someone, probably him, is panting like a desperate animal. The sheets are wet and sticky with sweat beneath him. He still feels hot as fuck, but now the heat has settled in his lower belly, and when Nero rolls his hips against whatever is pressed against him, he feels that he's hard now, painfully so.

"Oh, good, you're awake," Dante's voice says, "You've been humping me for half an hour now."

Nero rolls his hips again, and yes, that definitely feels like a human thigh his dick is sliding against. Nero blearily opens his eyes, and after a minute his gaze finally focuses on Dante, laying next to him and holding a magazine in his hands.

"Is that a fucking porn mag?" he asks, sitting up.

Dante raises an eyebrow at him and turns the magazine so Nero can look at the cover. "No? It's–" Nero doesn't bother looking or letting Dante finish because he really doesn't give a shit; he plucks the magazine from Dante's hands and throws it across the room. "That was rude," Dante says, but he's grinning up at Nero as he seats himself in Dante's lap.

"I don't care," Nero snaps, grinding down on Dante's crotch. He's hard too, either from Nero's sleep-humping or hormones or whatever. Nero's just grateful because it means he's finally going to get what he wants. "Fuck me," he growls out, punctuating his words with another downwards thrust, "right now."

"Anything you want, baby," Dante purrs as he settles one hand on Nero's hips, the other wrapping around Nero's cock. Nero gasps as Dante strokes him, firm and slow. "You're so wet, Nero. You must really want it bad, huh?"

What a stupid fucking thing to say, like Nero hadn't been losing his mind this morning and again right now because Dante is wasting time trying to get some terrible dirty talk in instead of sticking his dick in Nero's ass. Nero never does this to Dante during his ruts and this is how Dante repays him? Un-fucking-believable.

"If you don't get your fingers inside my ass in the next thirty seconds so I can sit on your dick," Nero calmly says, "I _will_ kick you out and handle this myself."

"Okay, okay!" Dante relents, releasing his grip on Nero's cock, his fingers effectively slicked by his precome. "You're cute when you're bossy."

Dante slides his index finger into Nero before he can yell at him again. Nero sighs, breathing out a ' _yes_ ' as he slaps both his hands down on Dante's broad shoulders to ground himself. "More," he groans, eagerly thrusting back against the digit inside him, "I can take it–" He cuts himself off when Dante plunges two more thick fingers in, spreading and curling them against his walls.

Dante's staring up at him with the strangest expression – something almost like awe. Nero has no idea what it means and it's too complicated for him to think about right now, anyway. He closes his eyes and fucks himself wildly on Dante's fingers, desperate for more. He clenches down, imagining how Dante's cock will feel inside him, hot and heavy and thick. Nero kind of wishes Dante was in his rut, too, so he could trigger and fuck Nero with that divine dick.

Oh, wait.

"Dante," Nero gasps, stilling his movements, "can you– do you think you–" Proper sentences are always hard when Dante is finger fucking him, but this is a whole new level of difficulty with his brain so muddled. Nero lets his gaze drop down to Dante's cock, dripping and erect between his thighs, and licks his lips. "You can– trigger like this, right? I... I _want_..."

The fingers inside him halt, and when Nero looks back up at him, he's red-faced and wide-eyed. "Yeah," Dante croaks out, "Yeah, I can do that."

Dante pulls his fingers free, and Nero is so excited about what's to come that he doesn't feel disappointed in the slightest. Nero sits back on his haunches and waits for Dante to transform right then and there. Dante looks a little embarrassed under the scrutiny, but then a blindingly bright light envelopes his body.

The light fades and Nero blinks as two blazing orange eyes stare back at him.

Nero gulps, the arousal and cardinal need he feels increasing tenfold.

It's Dante alright, just not quite the Dante he was expecting to see. Nero's only seen him like this twice – when Dante saved him from Urizen, and again when Nero broke up the fight between him and Vergil. He looks otherworldly, powerful, and _gorgeous_.

Nero launches himself back into Dante's lap, gaze honing in on the dauntingly large cock towering between his legs. Nero gets both of his hands around it, and his fingertips just barely meet. His mouth waters. The one remaining logical brain cell in Nero's head says, ' _You need lube for this_ ,' but Nero is already lowering himself onto Dante's cock. Nero keens as he's speared open.

Dante sits up abruptly, rough hands clamping down on Nero's torso to steady him. His hands are so _warm_ and dwarf Nero's form almost completely, claws prickling at the sensitive, delicate skin of Nero's nipples. Dante is so much bigger than him like this, in every physically possible way, and it drives Nero crazy.

This should be nothing – he takes demon dick up the ass on a monthly basis, after all – but it's _everything_. Nero is whining and moaning brokenly, pathetic and embarrassing noises that he hasn't made since the first time they fucked during Dante's rut. The instant he's fully seated on the monstrous cock, it's pressing directly on his prostate, and Nero comes with a silent gasp. It's wedged so tight inside him, he isn't sure he can move, and the pressure against his prostate is unyielding and firm, milking him until Nero has nothing left, trembling minutely.

Dante leans forward, dangerously sharp teeth brushing against Nero's neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He parts his mouth and licks at the flesh of Nero's neck. It's probably intended to be comforting, but it just riles Nero up further, as the edges of Dante's tongue are jagged with the tiniest of little spikes.

Even after just coming, Nero finds he's still hard, the hot need burning in his belly unsated. With great effort, he places his hands on Dante's shoulders once more, nails digging into the tough skin, and begins to roll and twist his hips. The one and only attempt he makes at lifting himself up to drop back down on Dante's dick ends with Dante growling and Nero coming once more.

It's too good, perfect, and yet, still not enough. He needs... he _needs_... Nero has no idea. He feels like he's about to cry, overly sensitive to the point of coming at the smallest of touches and it still won't be enough. He can't even verbally convey this to Dante. Coherent sentences are pretty much non-existent in his head at this point, and he doubts Dante would be much help, anyway – he seems set on Nero being the one to take the reins, while Dante just lets him do whatever. It's endearing and also frustrating as Hell, those orange eyes boring into him as Nero fervently works himself on his cock.

Nero comes a third time and whines when he looks down, chin to his chest, and sees that his member is _still_ hard, despite the ridiculous amount of come coating his chest and thighs. It stands tall against his belly, which bulges out obscenely from Dante's cock, and now all Nero can think about is how he looks when Dante lays his clutch inside him, and–

That's a _really_ good idea. He _wants_ that. He should have asked Dante beforehand if the eggs are just a rut thing or if he would be able to do it now, because Nero really, _really_ wants them. He wants to ask Dante now, but instead, what comes out is, "Dante, _breed me_."

The hands cupping Nero's chest twitch, and a second later Nero is being lifted up and slammed back down on Dante's shaft. Nero enthusiastically meets every thrust, his thighs straining with the effort. He wants to beg and scream Dante's name but every thrust into his hole leaves Nero breathless as the air is practically punched out of his lungs.

The flood of Dante's come staining his walls has Nero's pulse quickening as he waits in anticipation for the feel of eggs being pressed into him. At the first hint of pressure against his hole, Nero moans, wanton and shameless. He spreads his legs wider, writhing in pleasure even as Dante's hold becomes hard enough to bruise to hold him still. Dante's cock is wide and thick enough to fill every inch of him, but somehow the eggs find room, each one shoved deeper by the next. The immense pressure has Nero's eyes sliding closed, his nails digging in deeper and actually puncturing Dante's skin, which is... odd. He shouldn't be able to do that.

Dante manages to get a good six or seven eggs in him before pulling out. Nero groans unhappily, clenching to try and keep the eggs inside with how stretched he is. Nero opens his eyes, mainly to glare at Dante, but instead his attention is immediately on his own arms, covered in hard scales and glowing blue patterns. Oh. He sheepishly releases his death grip on Dante's shoulders, his talons prickled with blood. Light blinds him for a moment as Dante's trigger fades.

"Did I... trigger?" Nero asks, even though it's obvious now that he hears his own distorted voice.

"Uh huh," Dante sounds out of breath, "right about when you asked me to bre–"

"I got it, you don't have to repeat it."

Dante huffs, his hands sliding down the small of Nero's back. "No need to be embarrassed, kid." The smile he gives is tender, eyes squinted in affection as he looks up at Nero. "God, just look at you..."

Now Nero is really embarrassed. He glances down at himself, gets a glimpse of the slimy-looking blue dick against his distended stomach, and looks away immediately. "Whatever, just–" he stammers, "can you change back? I'm still... not done."

"Ah..." Dante gives him an apologetic look. "You're gonna have to give me a little break before I go again, sorry." At Nero's absolutely crushed, betrayed, devastated, heartbroken look, he hastens to comfort him, "Hey, no, come on! I can still rock your world like this!"

Nero gives Dante's soft, human cock a skeptical look. "I'm not too sure about that."

"Magic hands, remember?" Dante wiggles his fingers suggestively at Nero, who rolls his eyes. The hand still at the small of Nero's back glides upwards, right between his wings, before stopping just below his neck. Nero shudders. "Are you sensitive here?" Dante asks.

"Yeah, I guess. Why–"

Dante rakes his blunt nails down Nero's spine, and Nero comes for a forth time with a garbled cry, body arching forward in ecstasy. He goes limp in Dante's lap a minute later, his head falling forward against Dante's shoulder as he gasps for breath, eyes glazed. Dante presses a kiss to Nero's neck as he brings a hand up to comb through the long strands of Nero's hair.

Nero leans into Dante's touch. "I'll kill you," he pants out.

Another chaste kiss to the neck is Dante's response. "You're still hard, huh," he says, not really a question because Dante does, in fact, have eyes.

"Sorry," Nero says, feeling like he should apologize for being so difficult to please or being such a mess or maybe both.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Dante is quick to assure. He pats Nero's hip. "Hands and knees for me? I've got an idea."

Nero obeys, mindful of his claws on the cheap bedsheets. He feels Dante kneel behind him and Nero spreads his legs. He's ready to try anything at this point, and he himself is all out of ideas. Plus, in this position, the eggs feel incredible, heavy and grounding inside him. He's expecting Dante to try fingering him again, but the older man wraps a hand around Nero's cock instead. Nero lets out a soft, questioning noise, and Dante shushes him gently.

"Trust me, okay?"

Obviously, Nero does. He's just doubtful that another orgasm via jacking off is going to change anything. He's forgotten how many times he's come and yet his erection is persistent. Still, he relaxes, lowering himself onto his elbows, and lets Dante go to town.

He strokes Nero all the way from the base of his cock to the tapered tip. Oddly, though, he doesn't stroke back down, only upwards. Nero kind of wants to ask, but he's starting to feel hot again, and the wet, slick sounds of Dante's hand working over his cock are only adding to the burning intensity. Nero starts panting as Dante picks up the pace and his strokes get slower but more firm, like he's trying to...

Nero isn't able to finish the thought before he's coming, again, with a low groan. He feels disgustingly wet and sticky, all over his chest and between his legs, and Dante is _still_ pulling at his dick for some fucking reason.

"It's _sensitive_ , you asshole," he snarls, turning his head and piercing Dante with the nastiest look he can manage.

Dante, not bothered in the slightest, diligently continues to stroke and tug. "Just relax," he says.

_Just relax_ , like Nero is going out of his goddamn mind. That _bastard_. Nero opens his mouth, a long string of obscenities right on the tip of his tongue, but what comes out instead is a whimper, soft and confused, as Nero feels... _something_ at the base of his dick shift.

"W-what–"

He tries to speak, but whatever it is inside him _moves_ as Dante gives another twist of his hand and words completely fail him.

"Hey," Dante says, sounding miles away, "can your wings chill out and not punch me while I'm doing this?"

" _Guugh_ ," Nero moans intelligently. All the same, he makes an effort to keep his wings down, clutching the sheets for good measure. Still, they quiver and twitch at Dante's next stroke.

It doesn't hurt, it's just... He doesn't know. It almost feels good, in a way that Nero can't completely comprehend.

Nero's whines and cries increase in pitch and volume as the circular lump in his cock travels further in tandem with Dante's stroking. Nero is a babbling mess by the time it's finally at his tip. The strange, tingling sensation becomes mind-numbing, and Nero lets out a wail that vaguely resembles Dante's name as the orb finally pops out of him.

"Good boy," Dante whispers, sounding immensely pleased, and Nero goes limp. The sheets rustle as Dante moves, reaching under Nero. "I'm jealous," he says, "yours look way cooler than mine. See?"

Nero really, _really_ doesn't want to see, but also... really does. He lifts his head, blinking at Dante's proffered hand.

The hand that is... holding an egg.

Nero groans in despair and looks away. _Not this shit again_.

He glances back.

It _is_ kind of cool-looking. Whereas Dante's are that dusty dark red, this is completely black with a few blue streaks scattered across it. Huh. Completely unrelated to these two things, Nero thinks that the colors red and blue compliment each other pretty well.

He looks away again. "Get that out of my face," he mutters, and oh, he sounds normal. Nero rolls over onto his back, with some difficulty due to the eggs, and inspects himself. Human, and his dick – gloriously soft. Nero is so relieved he could cry, or kiss Dante. Option two is very tempting.

"I take it you're feeling better?" Dante asks, grinning down at Nero.

He does, thank God. He mostly just feels exhausted now. It's ridiculous that this is only the first day, and all it took for him to not feel like death was one, stupid egg. Nero voices these thoughts.

"Don't worry," Dante says, "we have all week." He stares... _fondly_ at the egg in his hand. Woah. "There's plenty more on the way."

"...Stop looking at it like that," Nero says instead of thinking about more of those things. Coming from him.

Dante pouts. "It's _cute_ , Nero. Just like you." Nero sputters, cheeks coloring red. How dare Dante, the cute one, say that? "Besides," Dante pushes forward, "you've currently got at least six of these things inside you. No one likes a hypocrite."

"That's... different."

"Uh huh," Dante drawls, definitely not unconvinced. "You want me to help get those out now, by the way?"

Nero shakes his head, laying a hand on his stomach. "Not yet. Tomorrow, maybe." They just feel good, that's all.

"Tomorrow you're going to be begging for the exact opposite and you know it," Dante argues.

"That's a problem for tomorrow, then."

"Nero..."

" _Dante_."

"Baby."

"Sweetheart."

"Honey bun–"

And Nero yanks Dante down for a kiss to shut him up before either of them can say anymore embarrassing things.

**Author's Note:**

> no, i will not stop writing them as domestic bickering dumbasses 
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/glycopoeia)


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